


The Twelve Days of Christmas

by Duchess_of_Strumpetness



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Charlie has a baby dragon, Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, M/M, Word Orgy Writing Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:42:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 15,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21621664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duchess_of_Strumpetness/pseuds/Duchess_of_Strumpetness
Summary: Harry heads to The Burrow to help the Weasley’s pick out their Christmas tree for this year. It begins a roller coaster month for Harry as he deals with his crush on Charlie Weasley.I dedicate this collection of fluffy one-shots to my friends in both my Word Orgy and Discord Groups. I could not have done it without you guys.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Charlie Weasley
Comments: 130
Kudos: 528
Collections: 12 Days of Christmas





	1. Tree

**Author's Note:**

> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/41529282@N02/49148573481/in/dateposted-public/)   
> 

Harry wrapped his old Gryffindor scarf around his neck, tucking the ends into his jacket and zipping it up, then he tugged on the fur-lined dragon skin gloves Charlie had given him last Christmas. 

He could not quite tamp down his childish excitement as today was traditionally the day the Weasley’s chose their Christmas tree from the forest behind the Burrow. Harry had been going tree hunting with the rest of the Weasley men for the last few years. He and Ginny had finally called quits on their relationship and were much better friends for it. Along with Ron and Hermione, she was one of his very best friends.

Grabbing a bottle of Firewhisky, Harry apparated to the field behind the Burrow and tramped through the freshly fallen snow as it crunched underfoot. Harry had always hated winter at the Dursley's as he’d constantly been cold, however since Molly had gifted him with his very own handmade blanket in his first year at Hogwarts, it had become far more tolerable. In fact, the blanket was on the bottom of Harry’s bed right now. 

Stomping the snow off his boots, Harry pushed open the back door and was enveloped in the warmth of one of Molly’s hugs. Of course, he now towered over her, but as always, Harry was taken back to their first meeting on Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

“Hello Harry dear, everyone is in the front room waiting for you,” she said and took the offered bottle and giving Harry a light push in that direction. 

Choruses of “Hey Harry” greeted him to Harry’s grin. All his favourite people were in one room. His gaze drifted to Charlie, taking in the tall, good looking, dragon tamer. Charlie tried to get home for his mother’s Christmas traditions as much as he could, which fed Harry’s crush. 

“Let’s get this over with, Molly will have supper waiting for us later, on the condition we bring her back the perfect tree.” 

There was a lot of good-natured groaning and grumbling to Arthur’s amusement. However, with the benefit of long experience, he hustled his sons out of the warm house and into the cold night. The snow had thankfully stopped falling, the night crisp and clear, millions of stars carpeting the sky. Their breath left puffs of mist as they trudged toward the forest.

Harry knew the drill by now. Find the perfect tree, which was far easier said than done, tag it with a glowing green band and move onto the next one. Tall and slender worked best in The Burrow. Just as Harry was about to add his band to the stunning fir tree in front of him, Charlie stepped out from behind the trees, wand raised, clearly intent on claiming Harry’s tree.

“Back off Potter!” he growled, catching sight of Harry.

“I don’t think so Weasley, you back off!” Harry retaliated clearly to Charlie’s amusement.

“Not likely!” Charlie pointed his wand at Harry. He knew Charlie was only joking but that deep growl was doing things to Harry’s insides. 

Their good-natured ribbing escalated quickly, so when Arthur found them twenty minutes later, both men were wearing numerous green tree bands. Ron’s snort of laughter caught their attention.

“Need some balls, do you, Charlie?” Ron asked his brother cheekily. He knew all about Harry’s unfortunate crush on his brother and would not pass up an opportunity to tease him.

“My balls are just fine Ronald,” Charlie snapped back to the other men’s snorts of laughter. They would have been reprimanded if Molly had heard, but Arthur was far more lenient with his sons. “Potter here is not getting my tree!”

“Yours!” Harry spluttered indignantly, “I saw it first and my band is higher.” Harry was determined not to be distracted by Charlie’s arms and he crossed them over his chest. The bastard knew how good looking he was. 

“Just share the damn tree,” Fred suggested, blowing on his hands and stomping his feet against the cold. 

“Yeah, you can both put your balls on it?” George added to their barks of laughter and Charlie’s smirk.

“That’s enough!” Arthur stopped them before the situation got any further out of control. “You can both claim it when we get it inside. Who has the ropes and axe?” 

George and Ron handed the items over to their father, who cast regeneration spells on them. Harry wasn’t familiar with the spells but Ron had told him a few years ago that it enabled them to replant the tree after they’d finished with it, and it would continue to grow. Harry approved of that idea; he’d never liked the idea of killing a tree just to decorate their lounge room for a month.

With long practice, Arthur easily brought the tree down exactly where he wanted it and the men set about tying the branches together so they could easily carry it. It was too far to The Burrow to levitate the tree the whole way, and it was much too heavy, so it was good old-fashioned manpower.

The tree would have to be shrunk to fit through the doorway so that they could get it into The Burrow. Harry had once made the mistake of asking why they didn’t just shrink it in the first place. The looks he had received were pure horror - he may as well had told them that Voldemort was back or something equally prosperous. 

“It's a tradition!” Ron had spluttered as if that explained everything, and in a way it did. The Weasley’s were firm believers in family traditions so Harry had never queried it again. Now he could not imagine getting their Christmas tree any other way. 

Hot and sweaty they managed to get the tree to the back door ready for Molly’s inspection. After thirty years of marriage, Arthur knew exactly what sort of tree Molly favoured so he had no doubt that this one was perfect. 

Arthur called her out into the yard to inspect it, and she took her time before declaring it was indeed “perfect” and hugging all her sons, Harry included. 

Arthur shrank the ten-foot tree to nothing more than a pot plant and proudly carried it inside. Putting it in the corner Molly and the girls had cleared, he returned it to its proper size as Molly handed out mugs of Firewhisky laced eggnog. It was strong and hot and just what the cold men needed.

“Oh, it is just perfect” Molly exclaimed, now that she could see the tree in all its glory. Tall and straight, it towered in the double-height of the front room. The base was not too wide and the bright red tree pot would keep it standing for as long as it needed to. 

“Who is claiming the tree this year?” Molly asked, looking around at the men expectantly. 

“Harry and Charlie - our first dual-tree!” Fred happily told his mother, to Harry’s irritation, which just fed his amusement.

“Yeah, they were fighting over whose balls were going on the tree!” Ron supplied.

“Ronald!” Molly reprimanded, although the clear laughter in her voice gave away that she wasn’t too angry. “Come on, supper is ready. Let’s eat.” 

The hungry men took their places in the dining room, tucking into the vast quantities of food Molly had spent the better part of the day cooking for them. 


	2. Santa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is that time to choose the Weasley Santa for this year, and Harry at the Burrow listening to Charlie talk about his dragons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/41529282@N02/49162235726/in/dateposted-public/)

Harry found himself once more at The Burrow. He was wedged between Charlie and Ron on the old lounge in the front room as Charlie told them about his young dragon, Esmeralda, who was about to hatch her first egg. Charlie was worried about her and Ron teased him that he sounded exactly like an expectant father. Charlie didn’t bother denying the accusation, just gave the men a sheepish grin as they all knew his brother was correct. Realistically, Harry could have listened to Charlie read A History of Magic, he just had that sort of voice. It reminded Harry of nights of Firewhisky and sin, but he kept that thought to himself.

Dragons had fascinated Harry ever since he was a boy, long before he found out they were very real and had experienced first-hand their ferocious power in the Triwizard Tournament. After the war, Harry had spent close to two years working with them at the sanctuary as Charlie had offered him an escape from Wizarding Britain’s relentless hero worship and Harry had jumped at the chance. However, he would be the first to admit, if only to himself, a great deal of that fascination was also wrapped up in the big, tanned dragon tamer taking up half the lounge.

“That’s enough Charlie,” Arthur gently quietened his son. Arthur knew from long practice that his children could talk the leg off a cauldron when they were passionate about something. Standing in the centre of the room and calling attention. “It is time to choose this year’s Santa. You know the rules,” 

“No telling the younger kids.” Everyone yelled back at him, to Arthur’s amusement.

Harry had been astonished to discover, during their first year at Hogwarts, that at eleven years old Ron still believed in Santa Claus. Not wanting to hurt his new friend’s feelings Harry had asked him why and was stunned to learn that Santa was not just something muggle parents made up to make sure their children went to bed early on Christmas Eve, he was very real in the Wizarding world. 

The legend of a fat jolly old man wearing a red suit and delivering presents to every child on Christmas night in a magical flying sleigh was pure muggle storytelling. However, the old wizard that muggle Santa was based on was very real. The Wizarding World’s Santa was not fat, and he did not wear a red suit either, rather old-fashioned dark purple velvet robes, elaborately trimmed in fur and gold braid. Harry had always thought Dumbledore would have made a great Santa. He had that sort of over the top flair about him. 

Ever since he and Ron had turned twenty-five, their names had been thrown into the hat to be Santa at Christmas. It had surprised Harry at how thrilled he was at the prospect. He’d tried to refuse, but Molly was not having any of that, and Harry loved her even more for it. In the last fourteen years, Harry had been chosen to be Santa twice, and he had loved it. The whole dressing up and handing out gifts on Christmas morning had been the highlight of his day. Ron had been chosen to be Santa three times, to his children’s delight. 

“Come on Santa, time to announce your successor!” Arthur grinned and handed the hat to Charlie. Climbing to his feet, Charlie hugged his father and shook the hat, rummaging inside for a name.

Charlie had been an amazing Santa, handing out presents with great flare, keeping the children entertained and out of their parent’s way and became more and more jolly as the day went on to Harry’s amusement. Of course, Charlie in the old-fashioned robes had given Harry more than one highly inappropriate thought about what he’d like to do to that year’s Santa. Thankfully Molly has changed the sleeping arrangements the year before as the grandkids got older otherwise, as the only two unmarried men in the family, Harry would have been sharing a room with Charlie, and that would have been very awkward.

Harry did not realise he was holding his breath as Charlie played up to his audience until Arthur told him to get on with it. Smirking at his father, Charlie finally drew out a name with all the flare of Dumbledore pulling Harry’s name out of the Triwizard Cup. 

“Percy!” Charlie called out, showing everyone a scrap of parchment with Percy’s name written on it in their father’s handwriting to their cheers. Arthur accepted the purple robes from Charlie with a huge grin and, with an extravagant bow, handed them to Percy, who, for all his seriousness, couldn’t hide his excitement. Harry couldn’t blame him; it was a huge honour to be the Weasley Santa. 

Arthur, of course, was a great Santa, Harry figured he’d had plenty of practice, what with seven children and now fifteen grandchildren. He’d handed that sense of tradition and fun onto his own children. Percy took the role far more seriously, but even the adults found themselves stopping what they were doing and listening to his stories of earlier Santa’s and other Christmas traditions. Harry often thought that Percy would have been right at home on the stage. Course he never would have voiced that out loud. 

One of the best parts of the night, as far as Harry was concerned, was when Molly walked into the room with two large trays of eggnog, which Harry had no doubt was heavily laced with Firewhisky. She handed out the mugs and returned moments later with two platters of mince tarts and still warm biscuits.

“We have missed you at the sanctuary,” Charlie said as he dropped down onto the lounge and handed Harry another mince tart. “You’ve not visited in a while,” Charlie lightly scolded to Harry’s shame.

“Sorry, work has been crazy lately,” Harry replied, biting into the tart, a shower of crumbly pastry covering his lap.

“There is always a bed for you at my place,” Charlie replied in that deep, sexy voice of his and Harry’s insides squirmed at the very naughty images the thought of Charlie and a bed conjured in his mind. 

“I’ll keep it in mind, I have time off due to me,” Harry promised, hoping his voice was steadier than he felt. Thankfully Ron joined them and the conversation turned to Charlie’s dragon again, Harry was content to sit back and listen to Charlie talk, his mind wandering to his time with the dragons again. 


	3. Gifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie saves Harry from some errant wrapping paper and they spend the afternoon in the pub as Charlie shamelessly snoops through Harry’s gifts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/41529282@N02/49167403678/in/dateposted-public/)

Diagon Alley was still one of Harry’s favourite places in Wizarding Britain, and never more so than when it was decked out in all its Christmas finery. Every window and door was festooned with lights, wreaths and garland. However, the snow was far too damn real and Harry could hardly feel his feet. He should have gone home to change into warm, sturdy boots but he’d told himself he only had a few things to pick up, that had been three hours ago.  
  
Normally Harry started his Christmas shopping much earlier than this, but it had been a very busy few months at work and before Harry realised it, it was November.  
  
Ever since the Weasley grandchildren had started making their appearances, there had been talk of cutting back on Christmas presents, but honestly, Harry could not see that ever happening. Molly and Arthur had always adored spoiling their kids, and of course, now that they had all moved out money wasn’t as tight, they could spoil their grandchildren as well as their adult children.  
  
With Ron’s help, Harry had a fully functional muggle radio for Arthur this year. His arms full of shopping bags, Harry stepped out of one of the newer shops on Diagon Alley after picking up his order of hand-dyed balls of wool for Molly and was nearly blown off his feet. Only his seeker reflexes kept him upright, but the rolls of wrapping paper tucked under his arm took on a life of their own.  
  
No one came to his rescue; they were all fighting the wind and trying to keep hats on heads and children under control. About to give up the fight, Harry scowled at the sound of deep laughter from behind him, and before he could turn around and give the person a right telling off, he felt the rolls tugged from underneath his arm and Charlie was grinning at him. Harry felt his stomach go into free fall at the sight of Charlie rugged up against the winter chill in a thick jacket and scarf. His cheeks pink from the cold and a cheeky grin spreading over his handsome face.  
  
“You right there Harry?” he said, his voice a deep rumble of laughter, “Looks like you are about to be defeated by rolls of Christmas paper?” Charlie held up said paper to Harry’s grin.  
  
“Hey Charlie, thanks. Don’t let The Prophet know I’ve been defeated by Christmas paper, will you!” Harry replied lightly, trying to get his stomach back where it belonged. This inconvenient crush on Ron’s older brother was getting out of hand.  
  
“Come on, it is freezing out here, how about a drink at the Leaky?” Charlie asked relieving Harry of half a dozen shopping bags and striding off down the street so Harry really had no choice but to follow him, which really did not help his crush in the slightest. The sight of Charlie Weasley walking away from you was damn nearly as good as the sight of him walking towards you. Gathering up the rest of his bags, Harry followed Charlie down the street and into the blessed warmth of the Leaky Cauldron.  
  
Stepping inside Harry stomped the snow off his shoes and looked around, easily spotting Charlie taking up residence at a booth in the corner. He had dumped the wrapping paper on the table and was in the process of shrugging off his thick grey fleece-lined winter jacket, revealing a fit, toned body wrapped up in blue checked flannel and faded blue denim jeans. Trying to remain unaffected, Harry walked over and dumped his own bags on the bench seat.  
  
“Beer or Firewhisky?” Harry asked, shrugging out of his ministry issued overcoat and rubbing his hands together.  
  
“Both,” Charlie said, taking a seat and crossing an ankle over his other knee, “Firewhisky to warm us up, beer to take our time over.” Harry shrugged, it made perfect sense to him and headed for the bar.  
  
Walking back to their table a few minutes later, Harry put the glasses down on the table and slapped Charlie’s hands where he was shamelessly rifling through the shopping bags.  
  
“Hey!” he said startled, shaking his hand, not that Harry hit him that hard.  
  
“Hands off, you’ll spoil the surprise,” Harry slid into the booth and pushed two glasses towards Charlie.  
  
“So, mine is in here somewhere?” he asked excitedly, very much reminding Harry of one of the younger kids. Present snooping seemed to be in the Weasley blood, they all shamelessly did it and had no hesitation in telling on each other either.  
  
“Who says you’re even getting one?” Harry replied cheekily, clinking his glass against Charlie’s and tossing back the Firewhisky. It warmed him from the inside, a welcome relief.  
  
Charlie just gave him a look that spoke volumes about what he thought of that statement and proceeded to rummage through the gift bags again. Harry was content to sit back and let him. Of course, he’d bought Charlie a gift, however, it wasn’t in the bags so he could snoop all he liked, he wouldn’t find it. It was hidden in Harry’s bedroom under an undetectable charm along with the rest of the presents waiting to be wrapped.  
  
“I’ll borrow that from Ron later,” he said, holding up the newest crime novel Harry had bought for him after he’d finished reading the blurb on the back cover.  
  
“Charlie Weasley reading muggle crime novels, who would have thought?” Harry teased, loving how excited Charlie got over every gift, even though none were for him.  
  
“Hey, this Robert Galbraith guy is pretty good,” Charlie laughingly defended his reading choices, “it’s your fault anyway, you bought Ron the first two, and I borrowed them from him,” Harry couldn’t argue with that logic. Maybe he’d add a new book to what he’d already bought Charlie.  
  
Leaving Charlie to rummage through the presents, Harry went to get them some more drinks. Leaning on the bar while Hanna poured their drinks, Harry watched Charlie as he continued to sort through Harry’s gifts.  
  
“Gents, we’re closing the floo in about twenty minutes,” Hanna came to tell them a few hours later. Both men looked up at her shocked. Surely, they had not been here that long. Harry’s watch, however, told a different story.  
  
“Hell Charlie, it’s after ten o’clock, we’ve been here for five hours!” Harry could not believe it.  
  
“Time flies when you’re having fun!” Charlie said grinning and got to his feet, slightly unsteadily. “I’ll be back,” he muttered, swaying in the direction of the bathrooms.  
  
Gathering all his bags and the rebellious rolls of wrapping paper, Harry waited for Charlie to return. The afternoon had taken an unexpected turn and Harry couldn’t help his grin as Charlie unsteadily made his way over to where Harry was waiting.  
  
“I’ll see you at mum’s then, are you okay getting home with that lot?” Charlie nodded to Harry’s shopping bags. He just nodded.  
  
Walking over to the floo, Charlie pulled Harry into a heart hug, which he couldn’t return as he’d not had time to put the bags down, and in a flash of flames, Charlie disappeared.  
  
Wishing Hanna goodnight, Harry did the same, landing in his lounge room moments later. Stashing the gifts with the others, he crawled into bed and was asleep in seconds.


	4. Wrapping Paper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry spends his Saturday wrapping everyone’s Christmas presents and thinking back on past Christmases and his impromptu drinking session with Charlie Weasley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/41529282@N02/49167403643/in/dateposted-public/)

Harry cursed, as he had forgot to cast a heating charm on his room last night before falling into bed and it was freezing. Feeling around on his bedside table, Harry found his wand and casting a spell in the direction of his bathroom, he started the shower. He smirked, once again marvelling at the wonders of magic. Some things he still did the Muggle way, like making tea. Magic always made it taste strange, but turning on his shower from the bed made Harry appreciate his magical abilities even more. 

Casting a warming charm, but knowing it would not be of any good just yet, Harry threw back the covers, gasping at the cold and made a frantic dash to the bathroom. His winter pyjamas not offering much protection against the early morning cold and locking himself in the warm steaming bathroom. 

Twenty minutes later Harry walked out into his now warm room, scrubbing his hair on a towel. Grabbing an old Muggle tracksuit and thick socks Harry swiftly got dressed and headed to the kitchen, flipping on the kettle. He walked over to the fridge and grinned reading Hermione’s note stuck to the door. She hated gift wrapping more than anything else so normally asked Harry to do it for her. Not that he minded, it was probably the family’s worst-kept secret that Harry loved wrapping presents.

He still was not quite sure how it had happened, but ever since he was a boy, he had the responsibility of wrapping all the Dursley’s gifts, both birthday and Christmas, and Merlin help him if they were not perfect. Petunia thought it was a punishment, for something or other, but Harry secretly loved it even though there were never any for him. 

Walking over to inspect the pile of presents, which was much larger than he remembered, Harry saw Ron’s gifts piled among them. Thankfully, this year they had supplied their own wrapping paper. However, that brought Harry’s rather unexpected drinking session with Charlie Weasley to mind.

It had been worth spending Friday at work slightly hungover trying to concentrate on boring interdepartmental meetings about trivial matters when Harry’s mind kept wandering to the very tempting sight of Charlie with his shirt sleeves rolled up, exposing his strong wrists and forearms, both weaknesses of Harry’s and beer froth on his top lip that Harry wanted to kiss away. He was dragged from his pleasant memories by the kettle whistle. Pouring water over the tea bag and adding sugar, Harry carried it over to the breakfast nook and cleared some space. It was the perfect day for gift wrapping, cold and blustery, and even though the flat was warm enough, Harry flicked his wand at the fireplace and the fire crackled to life. Harry loved the sound of it and figured he could burn the excess paper.

Each gift was carefully wrapped with ribbons and bows and put back into its shopping bag for tags to be added later. Ron had gone more traditional; his paper was red with green trees. Since he’d started dating Hermione, books showed up in Ron’s stack of presents more and more often. Harry secretly hoped that the new murder mystery was for him, he had read the first one in a weekend and had been waiting impatiently for the next book in the series.

Starting on Hermione’s packages it was clear she had gone shopping in Muggle London by the vintage band t-shirts she had managed to track down for Fred and George, maybe one for Bill. Harry could just picture her dragging Ginny and Luna through the Portobello Road Markets looking for treasures. A Muggle camera he was certain was for Arthur and a huge cookbook, no doubt for Molly. Harry liked to guess who each gift was for. 

Putting Hermione’s silver and lilac wrapped gifts back in their bags for Hermione to collect later, Harry finally started on his own gifts. He had gone with brown paper with green and red accents this year.

Each gift brought back happy memories of its purchase. Even though there had never been any gifts under the tree for him, Harry had always loved Petunia’s Christmas tree. Harry often used to sneak out of his cupboard under the stairs and sit for hours just staring at the beautiful tree.

At the time it had been the most beautiful tree he had ever seen. The Weasley’s tree was nowhere near as perfect, but it was decorated with the stories of their life. Everyone had their own ornaments right from their first Christmas. Molly had even found a baby photo of Harry somewhere, Hagrid he suspected. Handmade ornaments the kids had made and expensive hand-blown glass from far-off lands. The tree was decorated with love and it made it far more beautiful in Harry’s eyes than Petunia’s could ever be. 

Pulling the thick dark brown gloves from their bag, he again let his mind wander to his impromptu drinking session with Charlie. Harry had noticed Charlie’s hands like he always did, and that they were dry and cracked from the cold, so Harry had bought Charlie a new pair of thick leather gloves. They had cost a fortune, but they were worth it, buttery soft and fully lined for extra warmth against the freezing Romanian winters. Harry was glad they had already been hidden away at home when he had run into Charlie. 

Carefully wrapping them and added them to the ever-growing pile of presents, Harry grabbed the next one. Ron’s new murder mystery novel, perfume for Hermione, Arthur’s radio and the balls of wool for Molly. There were tins of toffee for the kids and a new watch for Teddy. Unlike his cousin, the Weasley kids appreciated every gift they received, no matter the cost. Molly’s hand-knitted jumpers were still considered the ultimate gift. 

Wrapping the final gift, Harry sat back and happily surveyed his handy work. The gifts all festooned with matching ribbons and bows, the fire crackling away merrily, fed on the left over paper.


	5. Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets caught up in one of the Weasley’s legendary snowball fights when he drops into the Burrow to leave his presents under the tree.
> 
> I've never seen snow, so I hope this conveys a true snowball fight, they sound like a lot of fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/41529282@N02/49168112782/in/dateposted-public/)

Harry ducked behind a shrub, earning himself a glare from a surprised garden gnome as it bared its teeth at him and disappeared with a rustle of branches and a small avalanche of snow. Ignoring it, Harry stopped to catch his breath as he grabbed another handful of snow and packed it down into a ball. Carefully peaking over the top of the shrub, Harry grinned evilly as Fred was standing only a few feet away, with his back to him. Giving his snowball one more pat, Harry stood up, took aim and let fly, the snowball hitting Fred smack in the back of the head to his howl of dismay as he swung around to find Harry grinning at him. 

“Gotcha Weasley!” Harry smirked, a little prematurely as a snowball hit him square in the face to loud laughter. It wasn’t packed too tightly so Harry guessed it was one of the kids that had thrown it. Wiping the snow off his face he found young Rose Granger-Weasley cheekily grinning up at him. That cheeky grin was wiped off her face when one of her cousins dropped a handful of snow down her back. Even young Grace was part of the snowball fight. It was an unwritten rule that the adults took it easier on the young kids, they didn’t want them hurt but it was a free for all. Harry honestly could not remember when he’d laughed so much, his ribs and face hurt from it. His hands were freezing, unlike the rest of him, but he couldn’t use warming charms on them as it melted the snow, but Harry didn’t care, Molly would have fresh soup and hot chocolate for them when they all traipsed inside. 

Ron ran up, sliding on the snow, grinning madly. He was just as bad as his brothers and having kids had not made him grow up in the slightest, to Harry’s great relief.

“The twins are ganging up on us, I say we get to them first,” he said scooping up a huge handful of snow and packing it tightly. The Weasley snowball fights were legendary, of course with all of them more than average Quidditch players, it was chaos. Grinning at his best friend, Harry disappeared around the other side of the hedge, and on Ron’s signal, they both pelted the twins with snowballs to their howls of dismay. Both men knowing revenge would be swift as they, in turn, were pelted with snow. 

As Harry didn’t have any kids of his own, he shamelessly hid behind his nieces and nephews, of course, that gave him no protection as they were still pelted with snow until Molly called a halt to the shenanigans. 

“Food is ready,” she called out, waving a red tea towel in the air to get their attention. A happy smile crossed her features watching her family pelt each other with snowballs. How the snowball fight had eventuated she wasn’t quite sure, although she’d put galleons on one of the twins having started it. Fatherhood and responsibilities had not changed them all that much, they were still her mischief-makers. 

One by one they all trudged inside, giving Molly a kiss as they shed snow parkers and boots, hanging coats up on pegs and boots under the benches. The adults seating their children and serving up bowls of chicken noodle soup and bread rolls for supper. Jugs of juice were passed backwards and forwards and soon the room was quiet, the only sound was a hungry family warming up with Molly’s homemade soup and the occasional “Pass the bread please,”.

Even with less than half the family here for an impromptu dinner, the kitchen was full to bursting. After eating the kids all took their bowls over to the sink and rinsed them. They all knew the rules at Nanny’s house. Grabbing their mugs, they all scurried for places in the lounge room and Poppy filled their mugs with hot chocolate. 

Harry wandered into the front room and was surprised to find the tree still undecorated. He knew Molly liked to let the tree regenerate itself before they all helped decorated it, but over a week seemed a bit long.

“Charlie was called back to the dragon sanctuary unexpectedly,” Molly said handing Harry a mug of hot chocolate, “He should be back in a couple of days, something about a pregnant dragon,” taking a sip of his chocolate, Harry hid his smile at Molly’s news. In all honesty, he wasn’t surprised Charlie’s dragons meant everything to him. 

Harry had first been to the dragon sanctuary just after the end of the war at Molly’s prompting. Charlie had not taken it easy on him either and worked him hard until he’d collapsed into bed exhausted every night. It had helped Harry come to terms with killing Voldemort and his unwanted fame. He’d returned to England just in time for the birth of his eldest niece, Victoire. 

It had also been when Harry had developed his huge crush on Ron’s elder brother and even all these years later, it had not abated, in fact, it had only got worse. Harry had tried to move on and had various boyfriends over the years but none of the relationships lasted. Calling your current lover by your long-time crushes name during sex was guaranteed to end a relationship quickly, which Harry had found out a couple of times.

The rest of the night was spent in the Weasley’s front room, buried under a mound of children as they all talked at once, somehow, they managed to keep track of who was starting school, what house they’d been sorted into, and who was trying out for Quidditch. Before too long Harry had young Grace curled up on his shoulder fast asleep. 

“She’s fine, I’ll carry her through,” he said to Fred as he tried to relieve Harry of his daughter. Her two elder brothers were trying to hide their yawns as well. Kissing Molly goodnight, Harry floo’d to Fred and Katie’s house and carefully carried Grace upstairs and laid her on her bed, kissing her forehead and heading downstairs.

“Thanks, Harry,” Katie said, kissing his cheek, “I’ll go tuck her into bed,” Katie herded her sons up to bed as well and after some grumbling from the boys, the house was quiet.

“I’d best be off, night Fred,” Harry said, hugging him as he headed towards the floo, he’d only meant to be dropping off his presents for underneath the tree, however that didn’t happen, as usual. Molly and Arthur’s house was always full of people even though their kids now had homes and families of their own. 

“We should be decorating the tree sometime this week I suspect, when Charlie gets back, we’ll let you know,” Fred said, holding out a small pot of floo powder and with a puff of purple smoke, the twins just had to be different, Harry soon found himself back in his own lounge room. 

After the noise and warmth of the Weasley’s home, it seemed so quiet. All of Harry’s friend’s had free access to his flat, and he’d often come home to find someone curled up on his lounge reading, just enjoying the peace and quiet. Harry didn’t mind, he loved having someone to cook for. He’d even come home to find Draco Malfoy in his lounge room once news of his messy divorce hit The Prophet shortly after. Harry had told him he was welcome any time, and they’d become friends of a sort. 

Yawning, he headed to his bedroom, quickly stripping off his still slightly damp clothes and hanging them over the chair in the corner to dry, and tugging on warm winter pyjamas and crawling into bed. He was fast asleep within minutes. 


	6. Baubles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry heads to The Burrow to help decorate the Christmas tree and gets to meet the newest Weasley, Charlie’s baby dragon, Aiden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/41529282@N02/49167403553/in/dateposted-public/)

“If you don’t have a fresh pot of tea, don’t even think of opening that door!” Harry snapped as he heard the door handle to his office rattle. He’d spent the last two days finishing paperwork, and he was not in the best of moods. Apparently, even The Boy Who Lived couldn’t escape finishing his reports as Kingsley constantly liked to remind him. 

“Does coffee and Mum’s chocolate chip biscuits count?” Ron’s muffled voice floated from the other side of the door and Harry couldn’t prevent his first real smile since Monday night. He tossed the finished report in the tray and hurried over to open the door for Ron who was holding two steaming mugs of hot coffee and the edge of a paper bag in his teeth. Taking the bag from his friend, Harry held the door for him as Ron walked into his office and put the hot mugs down, sinking into the comfortable chair on the other side of Harry’s desk without being asked. They’d been friends too long to stand on formalities.

“Not that these aren’t more than welcome, but what brings you up here in the middle of a Wednesday morning?” Harry muttered around a mouth full of one of Molly’s biscuits, dropping crumbs all over his reports. 

“I figured two days of report writing was enough to frazzle anyone’s nerves,” Ron replied, rubbing it in Harry’s face that as Head Trainer he didn’t have to write boring reports, just run the new intake of trainees through their paces. 

“We thought the assignments at Hogwarts were bad,” Harry said with a grin to Ron’s nod. 

“Mum wanted me to let you know Charlie’s home, we’re decorating the tree tonight,” course he had to drop that piece of news just as Harry took a mouth full of his hot coffee. Somehow, he managed not to destroy this morning’s work by spewing coffee all over his desk.

“You did that on purpose,” Harry muttered, glaring at Ron as he wiped his mouth to his best friend’s grin. 

“Of course, I did,” he gleefully admitted “You really need to do something about this crush of yours, you’re too old to be pining over someone, even if it is my rogue of a brother,” sometimes Harry regretted telling Ron about his feelings for Charlie. 

“I’m not that old!” Harry immediately complained, “We are the same age you do know.”

“Course I do, but I’m married with two kids, you’ve not even settled down yet, you’re not getting any younger Harry, you’ll be forty in July,” Ron just managed to dodge the half a biscuit Harry threw at him.

“Oh shut up, go and torture some new trainees, I’ve got reports to finish,” Ron laughed, snatched up one of the last biscuits and left the office with a wave and a “See you at mum’s tonight at seven, don’t be late,” as he pulled the door shut behind him. 

Grumbling about a certain redhead who couldn’t mind his own business, Harry got back to work, fortified with strong coffee and Molly’s biscuits.

Harry was pulling his office door closed a little after five that evening and joining the queues of employees heading home. Minutes later he was stepping out of his own fireplace and heading for the shower. Wrapping a towel around his hips, Harry walked into his bedroom scrubbing his hair dry on another towel and opened his wardrobe door and tugged out black jeans and the dark green jumper Molly had knitted for his last birthday. Rubbing his hand over the soft wool Harry recalled Charlie’s teasing that it brought out the colour of his eyes. Harry rummaged through his wardrobe for his winter jacket and tugging it on, grabbed the bottle of wine Molly had asked him to bring and floo’d to The Burrow. 

The first thing that hit him was the noise. Clearly the whole family was here to help decorate the tree and of course, the kitchen smelled amazing, roast chicken by the smell of it. Harry was nearly knocked off his feet as his two youngest nieces ran at him, wrapping their arms around his waist.

“You made it Uncle Harry!” they chorused staring up at him. 

“Of course, I made it, I couldn’t miss seeing my favourite girls,” he said, reaching around and tickling their ribs to their squeals of laughter as they twisted out of his reach as a chorus of “Hello Harry,” echoed down the stairs. Looking up, Harry watched as the others carried down box after box of Christmas decorations.

“Hello Harry dear,” Molly said, walking out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a tea towel and drawing him in for a hug. Of course, these days Harry towered over the woman who had been like a mother to him since he was eleven but her hugs still felt like home.

“Hello Molly,” he said, kissing her cheek and handing over the bottle of wine. “Anything else to bring down?” Harry nodded towards the stairs; Percy was just bringing down the last box. 

“That’d be right Potter, show up when the work is done,” Harry felt his stomach lurch at the teasing in Charlie’s voice as he turned to face the dragon tamer who was smirking at him. The man is far too damn good looking for my sanity, Harry couldn’t help thinking. 

“Come see what Uncle Charlie has,” Grace grabbed his hand and dragged Harry across the room to Charlie’s vast amusement. Charlie in tight black jeans and a grey roll neck jumper was highly distracting, so it took some effort for Harry to concentrate on what Grace was saying.

“He has a what?” he asked, her excited babbling finally sinking in.

“A baby dragon,” Grace pointed to a small basket that Harry hadn’t noticed earlier. Honestly, it looked like one of Molly’s breadbaskets she used on the table, right down to the red checked cover. 

“A dragon?” Harry looked over at Charlie, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. Charlie just grinned at him and tugged back the cover and reached into the basket. Hearing Charlie talk in a soft gentle voice had Harry’s insides squirming in lust but he couldn’t prevent his gasp of astonishment as Charlie lifted out a tiny black dragon. It easily fit into Charlie’s hand; its tail curled around his fingers.

With a gentleness Harry had never seen from the big man, Charlie gently stroked his finger down the tiny dragon’s back and was rewarded with, what Harry could only describe as a rather loud growl for such a small creature.

“Do you want to hold him?” Charlie asked as the little dragon opened its eyes, blinking sleepily and looked up at Harry. Wordlessly, Harry held his hand out and couldn’t help his slight gasp of astonishment as Charlie handed the dragon across. 

He was no heavier than a newborn kitten and about as big. Harry could feel him rumbling as Charlie stroked his head. His little wings spreading in clear enjoyment of being patted. 

“He’s stunning,” was all Harry could think of to say as the little dragon grumbled as he rubbed his head against Harry’s hand, exactly as Cruikshank used to do. “He’s so tiny, I expected something like the dragon in the Triwizard tournament,” Charlie just chuckled, a much deeper rumbling.

“No, not all dragons are that large, he’s a much smaller breed and only three days old. He’ll get bigger and stronger but his mother rejected him and I was worried she’d hurt or kill him. So I’m hand-rearing him,” being this close to a dragon Harry could easily understand Charlie’s fascination with them.

“What have you named him?” Harry queried, scratching under the dragon’s chin as he stretched his neck out for more.

“His name is Aiden, Aiden Weasley,” Charlie said.

“CHARLIE WEASLEY,” Molly yelled at him from the kitchen “That dragon is not my grandson!” Harry just managed to hide his smirk at Charlie’s cheeky grin and wink. 

“Sure mum!” he called back, gently tucking Aiden into his top pocket and heading into the living room to start decorating the tree. 

Every decoration had a story attached to it, children and grandchildren’s births, first Christmases, decorations brought back from holidays and handmade ones. Harry even had his own decorations, a miniature Hogwarts Express, a Firebolt broom and a Snowy Owl. Each one was carefully unwrapped from its tissue paper and added to the tree. 

Adding his owl to the tree, the sound of rustling paper caught Harry’s attention, and he turned to find Aiden wrestling with a piece of tissue paper, rolling around on his back and growling at it and very effectively shredding it to everyone’s amusement. 

After playing with the kids and being passed around the among the adults, Charlie had a very sleepy little dragon on his hands when everyone finally set off for home and if he’d hugged Harry a little longer than necessary, well who was to know?


	7. Christmas Baking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry decides to “work from home”, and spends the day in the kitchen making his famous sugar biscuits to take to the Weasley’s for Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/41529282@N02/49167403518/in/dateposted-public/)

Harry stuck his hand out of the mound of blankets to slap off his insentient alarm clock. It was far too damn early o’clock and cursed as he had forgot to set the warming charm on his bedroom the night before and it was freezing. Dreading the thought of getting up, his bed was warm and comfortable, Harry mentally went over what was waiting for him in the office, and deciding there was nothing that could not wait until Monday morning, he sent a floo call to Shacklebolt’s secretary telling her he was working from home today. 

Harry silenced his alarm and buried himself back under the blankets and went back to sleep for a few more hours. One of the benefits of seniority, he could work from home if he really wanted to. However, today it was more a case of he just could not be bothered going into the Ministry. He had finally caught up on all his paperwork; it seemed all the Wizarding criminals had taken a rest over Christmas too.

Hours later Harry walked downstairs in his old Gryffindor Quidditch jersey, a pair of tracksuit pants and his slippers. His flat was nice and warm and, flicking on the kettle, Harry headed to the fridge to gather his supplies. His arms full of butter, eggs and vanilla, he nudged the fridge door closed with his hip, deposited everything on the kitchen counter then grabbed the sugar and flour. 

Grabbing bowls, spoons and baking trays, Harry set the oven to heat up and got to work. He’d been making these biscuits for Christmas since before he went to Hogwarts. The elves had even let him borrow their kitchen on more than one occasion so he could make some for his friends. Of course, he had had to make extras for the elves. Not that he really minded, Harry had always liked the house-elves. They had tried to teach him how to make the sugar biscuits by magic, but it just was not the same. 

Smiling fondly, Harry remembered the first time he’d tried to teach Dobby how to make his Christmas biscuits. The kitchen had been a disaster zone, but the little elf had been so proud of himself, even though they’d been hardly edible. Somewhere Dobby had found the ugliest apron Harry had ever seen and to his vast amusement a chef’s hat. Dobby’s constant mutterings about silly muggles doing things without magic had amused Harry, and he’d spent the afternoon telling Dobby about muggle London. 

He’d promised to take the little elf to visit the city, hidden under Harry’s invisibility cloak. Of course, that had never happened but Harry liked to think that Dobby understood. Harry still had that ugly apron and hat folded up for safekeeping in his bedroom. The little elf had proved his loyalty and friendship over the years and Harry missed him very much. Every year on the anniversary of his death, Harry went to visit Dobby’s grave, and just sat there for a few hours, talking to his friend. 

Humming Christmas songs while he worked, Harry quickly mixed the biscuit dough together and tipped it onto on a floured bench and rolled it out until it was the right thickness. Harry opened a kitchen drawer and pulled out his old battered box of Christmas cutters. He had added to his collection over the years, but his favourite was still the old snowman-shaped cutter that he’d received as his one and only present one Christmas from the Dursley's. Molly had discovered Harry’s collection of biscuit shapes and she had bought him a few over the years. 

After a solid morning of baking, Harry’s flat smelled heavenly and every possible surface was covered in trays of cooling biscuits. Harry knew from experience how many they would go through so he always made sure he made extra. Of course, being the baker, Harry had to taste test a few of them and they went down very well with a mug of tea. 

After cleaning up the kitchen, Harry pulled out clean bowls, icing sugar and the food colouring and started to colour the icing. This year he settled on turquoise, red, brown, white. Harry had tried decorating them by magic in the past and well it just wasn’t the same. Harry enjoyed decorating the cooled biscuits with all sorts of Christmas themed patterns. Ron liked to tease Harry that he was still such a muggle, but he was more than happy to taste test Harry’s muggle cooking.

Hours later, Harry had finally finished and stood up to stretch his cramped back and shoulders. He couldn’t help his smile of achievement as he surveyed the rack upon rack of freshly decorated biscuits. There were Santa's, stockings, reindeer's, sleighs, snowmen, wreaths, trees and snowflakes.

Rummaging through his cupboards Harry finally found his stash of biscuit tins, right at the back of course and gave them a clean while the icing dried. He had only made the mistake of putting biscuits in the tins when the icing was not completely dry once. He was in no hurry to repeat it. 

Lining the tins with baking paper, Harry filled them with the fresh biscuits to take them over to The Burrow when he visited for Sunday lunch as he’d done every week for years. Just as Harry sealed the last tin, his stomach gave a loud rumble.

Looking out the window Harry was shocked to realise it had grown dark while he’d been working. Surveying his disaster zone of a kitchen, Harry decided that after cleaning up that mess again, cooking was the last thing he wanted to do. Tugging open the top drawer beside the fridge, Harry pulled out a stack of takeaway menus and flicking through them, he decided on Chinese. 

One of the benefits of living in muggle London, Harry had a working phone, so after phoning through his order, he set about cleaning up the kitchen yet again as he waited for his food to arrive. 


	8. Candy Canes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has found the perfect present for Charlie’s birthday dinner as he takes his tins of Christmas biscuits over to the Burrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/41529282@N02/49167403493/in/dateposted-public/)

Harry carefully stacked the large biscuit tins into the magical bag Hermione had given him one year for Christmas and set it on the kitchen counter to collect before he left for The Burrow for Sunday lunch. Heading back upstairs Harry grabbed his warm coat, scarf and the gift-wrapped parcel sitting beside it. It had been Charlie’s birthday through the week and, as his birthday was so close to Christmas, it was a low-key affair. 

Harry had been at Waterstones Bookstore in Piccadilly picking up a special order for Hermione for Christmas and he had taken a detour through the children’s section and had, quite by accident, found the perfect book for Charlie, A Dragon’s Guide to the Care and Feeding of Humans. He’d chuckled at the title and added it to the substantial pile already in his shopping basket. He was very glad it had an undetectable feather-light charm on it, as he already had fifteen books, and headed to the front counter.

Carefully Harry balanced the book on top of the tins and pulled the drawstring closed. Slipping on his coat, he shrunk the bag and stepped into the floo, calling out The Burrow as he did. 

Harry narrowly missed being bowled over by Grace and Lily as they both tried to hide behind him as their cousins Hugo and Albus chased them through The Burrow. From the girl’s shrieks of laughter, it appeared they’d stolen the boy’s candy canes, and they had promised swift revenge if they could catch the girls. 

Managing to sidestep the stampede of children, Harry made his way into the kitchen carefully resizing the bag as he walked. Not looking where he was going, Harry crashed into something large and heavy and very nearly landed on his backside, only his seeker reflexes keeping him on his feet.

A strong hand grabbed Harry’s upper arm to steady him as deep rumbling laughter echoed around the kitchen. Harry’s thanks died in his throat and his stomach went into free fall at the sight of a tanned, slightly scruffy Charlie Weasley sucking on one of his candy canes. 

That twinkle in Charlie’s eye was anything but merry, it was pure naughty mischief as he slowly twirled the thick stick of striped candy in his mouth, making obscene slurping noises as he pulled it out, lewdly swirled his tongue around it, and slid it back into his mouth. Harry was damn glad he’d not removed his coat just yet as his jeans were now uncomfortably tight and the room felt too warm.

“Hello Harry dear,” Molly broke the thick sexual tension in the room as she hurried over to engulf Harry in one of her signature hugs. Embracing the older woman Harry handed over the tins to Molly’s delight. 

“Dinner is nearly ready, come through to the dining room, it’s warmer in there,” Molly shuffled the men ahead of her, Harry couldn’t hide his slight smile. Molly had been doing the same thing since he was eleven years old, some things just never changed. 

The dining table had been added to again as when the whole Weasley clan were home for Christmas, there were over thirty people gathered around the long table with its mismatched chairs and dinnerware. Personally, Harry felt that was most of the room’s charm, that it wasn’t perfect. 

Greeting everyone, Harry finally managed to find a seat wedged between Charlie and Ron, to Ron’s vast amusement. Not for the first time, Harry regretted admitting to his best friend he had a crush on his elder brother. Everyone was distracted as Molly, Fleur and Ginny started handing around the dishes of roast chicken and vegetables. 

Like all meals at The Burrow, it was loud and noisy with everyone talking at once and Harry wouldn’t have it any other way. They’d been his family now for as long as he could remember. Hugo and Lily were telling everyone about their first few months at Hogwarts, to Grace’s disgust as she still had two more years to wait. Hugo desperately wanted to try out for Quidditch next year, as first years were not eligible and not even being Harry Potter’s nephew or Ron and Hermione’s son had swayed Minerva McGonagall in the slightest. She had delighted in telling Harry the story when he’d stopped by for afternoon tea a few weeks after Hugo had started. 

Arthur dimmed the lights as Molly carried in a huge birthday cake and set it down in front of Charlie as the room erupted in a very off-key rendition of happy birthday to his delighted grin.

“That’s a lot of candles, Uncle Charlie!” Grace said, grinning across the table at her favourite uncle to his mock distress as he clapped his hand over his heart and pretended to faint, right into Harry’s arms. He laughed along with the rest of the family at Charlie’s antics but he couldn’t help relish the very short time the man spent in his arms before Charlie sat up again and taking a deep breath, blew out all forty-seven candles in one breath, to everyone’s applause and cheers. 

As soon as Molly whisked the cake away to finish cutting it up, everyone dug out their gifts, and Charlie soon found himself sitting behind a pile of birthday presents. The adults mostly got joke presents, Charlie, even more so as his birthday was so close to Christmas. A few more toy dragons to add to his collection that had started when he’d been a boy, a scarf knitted by his nieces, a new jumper from his mum and a few books. Tearing off the paper from Harry’s gift, Charlie’s deep, loud laughter filled the room. 

“You think I need care and feeding do you Harry?” Charlie asked, his grin and clear enjoyment of the silly gift make Harry’s insides squirm in lust as he showed everyone else the cover of the book, to their laughter. Harry hardly even heard them, lost in the look in Charlie’s blue eyes. 

“Maybe he wants to volunteer for the position?” Ron suggested, keeping his voice low enough so only Harry and Charlie heard him. Harry gave a nervous laugh and looked over to Charlie, who didn’t say a word just smiled.


	9. Stockings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly Weasley has had enough of her grandchildren re-arranging the Christmas stockings to make naughty words, she leaves Harry, Ron and Hermione to deal with them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/41529282@N02/49167882401/in/dateposted-public/)

Harry, Ron and Hermione were trying, rather unsuccessfully, to hold in their chuckles at Molly’s grumblings about her naughty grandchildren. They had dropped by as Arthur, rather bravely, was taking all their grandchildren into Diagon Alley for any last-minute gifts, and of course a visit to Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour. 

It all got too much for Ron and his loud laugh echoed through the lounge room. Molly swung around one purple and silver stocking in her hand.

“Ronald Weasley, this is not funny!” she scolded him which only made Ron laugh all the harder. 

“Oh, come on mum, yes, it is. We did the same thing as kids, there are just more letters to work with now,” Molly was not in the mood to listen to her son’s logic. 

“I give up, you deal with him Hermione dear,” Molly thrust the stocking at her son and stormed off into the kitchen, and the adults finally could not hold in their laughter any longer. It was rare to see Molly annoyed like that and clearly, it was the older kids behind some of those words.

“What did you do to set Mum off?” Charlie’s humour laden voice echoed through the room. Just the sound of his voice was enough to send Harry’s stomach into free fall. 

“Your nieces and nephews are what,” Hermione replied, putting the stockings back in their correct order and handing Ron the ones to be hung higher than she could reach. 

“They’ve been re-arranging the stockings all week. Mum finally had enough.” Ron replied helping his wife to Charlie’s chuckle. Harry handed Ron a couple of the stockings and turned to face Charlie. He couldn’t prevent a happy smile spreading across his face as Charlie’s baby dragon, Aiden, was balanced on his shoulder. His claws gripping the red flannel shirt as he made odd little growls and grumbles. Harry couldn’t prevent his own chuckle. 

The little dragon gave out a happy little call as he saw the adults in the room and started to climb down Charlie’s shirt. 

“Just where do you think you are going?” Charlie asked to Aiden’s growl and Harry’s laugh. 

“You’ve made yourself a friend Harry,” Ron said as Aiden scrambled down Charlie’s outstretched arm and onto Harry’s hand, making happy little dragon sounds. 

Harry noted that Aiden was a little bigger than earlier and by that fat belly it was clear he’d just eaten. Being this close and personal to an actual live dragon, even only a week or so old Harry could far too easily understand Charlie’s fascination with creatures. 

“Is he purring?” Hermione asked puzzled to Charlie’s shake of his head.

“No, not the way a cat does, but it does signify he’s not afraid of you. He’s quite the social little dragon, he loves people.” By the fact, he was now laying on his back in Harry’s hand and having his belly scratched rather gave way that fact.

“Well keep him away from my two thanks,” Ron ordered, “The last thing we need is a damn dragon around the house, no matter how cute he is.” There was no sting in Ron’s words though as he was also fascinated with the little black dragon. 

Harry missed most of their conversation, he was captivated by the little dragon nodding off to sleep in his hand as Harry stroked him from head to tail, it was obvious Aiden was snoring if dragons did such a thing. 

“He likes you,” Charlie said quietly, giving Harry a bit of a start. He looked up and came face to face with Charlie’s stunning royal blue eyes. The edges crinkled from laughter or the harsh Romanian summers. Harry didn’t know how long he spent staring into Charlie’s eyes, probably far too long, until Aiden decided to wake up and have a stretch and yawn.

“I like him too,” Harry replied, wishing he had the nerve to admit to Charlie how he really felt. However, it appeared that when it came to matters of the heart, Harry’s Gryffindor courage totally failed him. As Ron had said on numerous occasions, he was far too old to still be harbouring a crush on his brother and not doing anything about it. 

“Well, I was wondering if you would do me a favour?” Charlie asked, reaching out to pet Aiden. “He likes you; he trusts you. Dragons don’t show their belly to just anyone,” as if to prove a point, Aiden rolled over and make his odd little dragon call. 

“Spoilt brat,” Harry muttered. However, he willingly continued to scratch Aiden’s belly. “Of course, Charlie, what do you need?” Looking up at Charlie again, trying not to drown in those far too knowing blue eyes.

“Could you look after Aiden for a few days for me? Mum has offered but there are too many people here. He likes people, but I don’t want too many at once to frighten him.” There was no way Harry could have said no, not with Charlie looking at him like that. 

“Of course, I will, I can work from home so he’s not alone,” Harry readily agreed.

“I’ve been feeding him diced chicken, he’s not big enough to try to kill his own yet. I’d suggest getting some old blankets to protect your lounge. His claws are sharp,” Charlie advised, pointing to a fairly new scar across the back of his hand. 

“He isn’t going to burn my flat down, is he?” Harry asked worriedly. Not that he suspected Aiden was up to that stage yet, but he’d had nightmares of being chased by a huge angry dragon for months after the Triwizard Tournament. 

“No, he won’t be doing anything like that for a few months. He is not old enough just yet and by then he will be back with his mother.” Like the rest of his family, Charlie would have loved to have kept Aiden, but it would not be long before he would be far to big to be kept inside. 

“Drop him off whenever you like, I will let Shacklebolt know that I am working from home for a few days.” Harry could have easily drowned in Charlie’s beautiful blue eyes. Aiden’s squawk broke the tension between the two men. Giving Charlie a lopsided grin, Harry handed Aiden back him and went in search of Ron. 


	10. Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is dragon sitting Aiden and finds out the hard way the little dragon is now breathing fire and is developing a quite the personality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/41529282@N02/49167403423/in/dateposted-public/)

Harry had volunteered to dragon sit as Charlie had been called back to the sanctuary to check on Aiden’s mother, Esmeralda. Of course, there was no way Harry would have said no to either Charlie or Aiden. 

Charlie had dropped Aiden off earlier in the day with a mile-long parchment of instructions, a basket full of toys and his very own blanket.

“Molly?” Harry asked with a chuckle as he lifted it out of the basket.

“Who else?” Charlie replied with a laugh and one of those grins that turned Harry’s insides to mush. “She even made him dragon snacks!” at the sound of Charlie shaking the bag Aiden let out a happy squawk and scurried over to Charlie as fast as he could and Harry could not prevent his bark of laughter 

“You’re training him?” Harry asked delighted as Aiden sat in front of Charlie like an obedient puppy to Charlie’s grin and one-shouldered shrug.

“Yep, trying to. I’m not sure how much he will remember but he’s destructive when he’s bored, I warn you. He needs to learn new things.” Aiden’s tail thumped the ground in delight as Charlie threw him another snack. “If he destroys anything, let me know and I’ll repay you.”

“Charlie, stop worrying, he’ll be fine, he’s only a baby, how much damage can he do?” by the look Charlie gave him, Harry wasn’t sure he really wanted to know the answer to that question. 

“He has his toys and I’ve set up his litter tray, just floo me if you need anything, thanks again Harry,” Charlie swung his backpack onto his shoulder and enveloped Harry in a hug, and floo’d back to The Burrow. He was gone before Harry could get his thumping heart back under control. 

“Looks like it is just you and me,” Harry told the little dragon who was currently waging war on a ball of wool. He reminded Harry of Rose’s kitten, full of playfulness and then they would be asleep in seconds. 

Aiden had grown further in the last week, he was getting bigger all the time but was still a very affectionate little guy. Harry went to start his own dinner and take Aiden's chicken out of the fridge; he didn’t like it when it was cold. 

Harry could hear Aiden’s little growls and yips from the kitchen, Charlie knew what they all meant, and so long as he didn’t sound like he was hurting himself, Harry was content to let him play. No doubt there would be stuffing all over the lounge room from something he had destroyed, but Molly had long ago taught Harry a very handy repairing charm. 

The sudden quietness brought Harry out of his wool-gathering; it was far too quiet for his liking. Wiping his hands on the tea towel, Harry walked into his lounge room to find the ball of wool now a smouldering pile of ashes on the floor and Aiden hiding behind the footstool. 

Crouching down, Harry clicked his tongue and the little dragon scurried over to him and buried himself in Harry’s chest as he scooped him up, holding him close. 

“You frightened yourself, did you?” Harry asked with a little chuckle. “Poor little guy, it’s okay, you’re supposed to do that,” I think Harry silently added. He wasn’t sure when a dragon’s ability to breathe fire developed. It wasn’t that big a fire, the wool was destroyed but there were not any burns on the carpet. 

“Wait until I tell Charlie,” Harry told Aiden, stroking his head and back, which the little guy loved, “he’ll be sound proud of you, come on time for your dinner,” carrying Aiden into the kitchen, Harry put him on the counter and finished cutting up his chicken. 

Harry gave Aiden a piece of chicken and watched amused as he hunted it, swatting it with his claws and roaring at it. Of course, a baby’s dragons roars were far cuter than the adult that had wanted to roast Harry alive. 

“Okay, I’m sorry,” Harry held up his hands in surrender as Aiden didn’t take his amused chuckle at all well and Harry was quite sure that was an annoyed glare he received. However, hunting his dinner was clearly far more import as Aiden decided the chicken was now suitable to eat and wolfed it down hungrily. 

Honestly, if he didn’t get any bigger than this, Harry would have gladly kept him. He was super affectionate, not something Harry had ever associated with a dragon before, loved snuggling up to watch television, loved his toys and slept on his own blanket. He reminded Harry of a boisterous puppy, full of curiosity and too big for his own feet. 

However, Harry knew all too well that Aiden would only be this size for a month or two longer at the most, soon he’d be flying and they were such magnificent creatures, they deserved to be free and able to soar over the landscape. 

Harry put Aiden’s bowl down in front of him. Clearly, he had decided his dinner was dead enough and hungrily scoffed down the chicken pieces. Harry was very glad he hadn’t developed a taste for raw food just yet. 

Finishing his own dinner, Harry cleaned up the kitchen while Aiden sat on his shoulder, making his odd little chirps and growls as Harry talked to him. Sometimes he was positive Aiden knew what he was talking about, with the little head turns and growls Harry received. 

“No! Dragons don’t drink tea!” Harry admonished as Aiden tried to stick his snout in his mug. They had found out the hard way that tea and dragons were not a good mix and had spent hours cleaning up the mess.

Getting comfortable on the lounge, Harry put Aiden on the floor so he could explore and flicked on the television. 

“Ouch, Aiden!” Harry gasped as sharp little dragon claws dug into his jeans as Aiden climbed up his leg. Reaching down to help him, Aiden growled frustrated and Harry hissed, snatching back his now singed fingers and blowing on them. 

“Fine, do it yourself, you cranky toddler!” Harry growled back as Aiden’s little head finally poked above his knee. Grabbing the cloth in his jaws and his sharp claws, Aiden finally made it to Harry’s lap and with a happy squawk nudged his head under Harry’s hand for a pet. 

“Spoilt brat!” Harry could not prevent his happy smile as Aiden curled up under his hand and drifted off to sleep, his little dragon snores filling the room.


	11. Hot Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie drops into Harry’s flat to collect Aiden and they spend time catching up on Charlie’s trip and drinking hot chocolate until Aiden wakes up from his nap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/41529282@N02/49167882266/in/dateposted-public/)  
> 

It was another cold; blustery Saturday night and Harry was curled up under a blanket on the lounge reading and absently petting Aiden who was asleep in his lap. 

It had been an eventful few days looking after Aiden and Harry was not sure how people managed with children. Then again, you could reason with a child, Harry figured. A dragon just did whatever the hell he wanted. Still it hadn’t been all bad. A couple of cushions had been sacrificed in battle, which Aiden had emerged victorious. The cushions no match for his sharp claws. Of course, then it had been a battle to keep Aiden out of the mess as Harry tried to clean it up. 

Bath time, after Aiden had managed to tip flour all over himself, had resulted in Harry cleaning the entire bathroom. Who would have thought a baby dragon could make such a mess in a few inches of water?

Aiden had been scared on his own in his crate and his frightened little noises had broken Harry’s heart so he’d spent the last few nights curled up on the blankets on Harry’s bed, his little dragon snores filling the room. Harry found it rather relaxing.

Harry heard the floo flare to life and slotted the bookmark into his book. He watched the doorway, wondering who his guest was. Only a few people had unrestricted access to his floo, so it was most likely one of the Weasleys. 

Charlie stuck his head around the lounge room door a few seconds later and grinned at the sight of Aiden snoozing in Harry’s lap. 

“He’s not a kitten, Harry,” Charlie told him, his voice laced with humour. Carefully Harry moved Aiden and his blanket to the lounge and stood up. 

“No, he’s far naughtier!” he replied grinning at Charlie and walking into the kitchen. 

“Oh no, what did he do?” Harry shook his head at Charlie’s worried tone.

“Nothing much. We sacrificed two cushions and a couple of balls of wool, nothing too serious.” Harry held up the chocolate canister to Charlie’s nod. It was the perfect weather for a mug of hot chocolate and marshmallows. 

No one made hot chocolate like Molly Weasley, and it was none of that instant stuff either. Only one hundred percent pure Belgian chocolate was up to Molly’s standards. Even when money had been tight, they’d found the money for a tin of the stuff each year.

Putting the saucepan on the stove, Harry heated the milk as Charlie pulled down the Christmas biscuit tin. He knew damn well where Harry stashed the extra biscuits he’d taken to Molly’s. 

“So, how is Esmeralda?” Harry asked, not taking his eyes off the warming milk.

“She’s fine. She was cranky at being caged but we needed to know she was recovering from the birth. We took her for a fly and she’s happier now.”

“You what!” Harry gasped, shocked. 

“Took her for a fly, you’ve never ridden the dragons, have you?” Charlie’s whole face lit up when he talked about his beloved dragons. Harry couldn’t help feeling a little jealous.

Harry just shook his head, carefully adding the melted chocolate to the warming milk. He didn’t want lumpy hot chocolate. 

“Come and visit us again,” Charlie said, far closer than Harry thought he was. For a big guy, he was surprisingly light on his feet. “I’ll take you up on one of the big boys, they love a good fly.”

I’ll just bet they do, Harry thought as he lightly nudged Charlie out of the way and quickly stirred the chocolate and milk together, in moments it was perfect, creamy and smooth. Adding a couple of marshmallows to the mugs, Harry carried them both over to his kitchen table and put one in front of Charlie’s normal spot. 

“You’ve ridden a dragon before, and a Hippogriff,” Charlie lightly reminded Harry to his grimace.

“True, at least this time I won’t be escaping from Gringotts,” Charlie had tracked down the Gringotts dragon to make sure he was recovering from his ordeal. It had taken months, but he’d finally let Charlie near him. Harry had never seen Charlie as angry as when he’d found out they’d kept a full-sized dragon in the dungeons of the bank for years. 

“Our dragons are used to being around people, they are still wild but they know we’re looking after them and it beats flying,” that was high praise coming from Charlie. Like all the Weasleys, he was Quidditch mad and had been on a broom since he could walk, probably before that even. 

“Okay, you’ve convinced me,” Harry said clinking his mug against Charlie’s “I’ll put in for some leave after Christmas,” Charlie’s happy grin made Harry grin in return. Some time away would do him good, Molly and Hermione were always on his back to take leave. 

The two men sat and talked for a while until an annoyed growl echoed from the lounge room. 

“Your dragon is awake,” Harry said with a laugh as he could hear Aiden’s annoyed little growls as he climbed down the blanket on the lounge for just that purpose and his claws scrambled over the timber floors. 

“My dragon!” Charlie said with a laugh as Aiden scurried over to them. He was having a bit of trouble on the kitchen floor tiles. Not saying a word Harry just stuck his leg out and Aiden started his awkward climb up the denim to Harry’s occasional wince.

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Harry said as Charlie leaned over to help the little dragon. “He’s like a cranky toddler, he can do it himself.”

The look on Charlie’s face was priceless and Harry couldn’t help his bark of laughter, which turned to a gasp of pain as Aiden sunk his claws in. Not taking Harry’s warning seriously, Charlie reached out to help but snatched his hand back with a curse, blowing on his now singed fingers. 

“I did warn you,” Harry said as Aiden finally managed to climb up onto Harry’s knee.

“He’s breathing fire!” Charlie said shocked, “he shouldn’t be doing that for a few months yet!”

“Well, not really fire, just little bursts of it, enough to warn you off and scorch wool balls.” 

“And fingers,” Charlie scowled at his dragon, who didn’t care, he just stretched out his neck for Charlie to pet him. “Spoilt brat!” Charlie said but picked the little dragon up and put him on the table to his little chirps. Harry had quickly learnt to recognise his different noises, and those were happy ones. 

Of course, it didn’t take long before Aiden was bored with Charlie being back again and started to investigate the things on the table. He clearly wasn’t happy when Charlie moved his hat and scarf out of his reach, but he then spied the two mugs.

He was just big enough to be able to see what was in Charlie’s mug but not quite big enough to reach it to his frustration as he let out a loud, cranky squawk. Course the men’s laughter didn’t help in the slightest. 

“You don’t drink hot chocolate Aiden,” Charlie reprimanded the little dragon which of course was the wrong thing to do. Defiantly Aiden stuck his nose in the froth on the top of the mug and snorted it.

The look of disgust on Charlie’s face was priceless as he screwed up his nose but Aiden hadn’t quite finished wreaking havoc as the chocolate powder Harry had sprinkled on the top of their drinks tickled his nose and he sneezed, a rather loud dragon sneeze and covered both men in hot chocolate froth and most likely dragon snot.

“Aiden!” Charlie could not stop laughing and Harry was no better. The little dragon sat on the table, tilting his head puzzled and watched the two men as they could not contain their snorts of laughter as the ridiculousness of the situation. 


	12. Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Charlie visit Diagon Alley to see the lights, and their friends have bets on when they will finally admit their feelings for each other. Aiden also makes some new friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/41529282@N02/49167882221/in/dateposted-public/)

It was a Christmas tradition that the adults met for a few drinks at The Three Broomsticks and then to see the Christmas lights in Diagon Alley a few days before Christmas. Molly and Arthur had the grandkids, finishing off some last-minute decorations for The Burrow. Probably making table place cards and finishing the decorating. 

They had asked Teddy and Victoire to join them this year, but the teenagers had declined, preferring to spend the night with their grandparents. Considering how cold it was outside, Harry didn’t blame them. Even in his thickest jumper and jacket, Harry was still cold. Hermione, Ron and their kids had spent a few Christmases in Australia at Hermione’s parent’s holiday house and the thought of a hot Christmas, although strange, did have a certain appeal. 

Charlie held the door open for Harry, and he hoped he could explain away his pink cheeks on the cold. Charlie had stayed the last few night’s in Harry’s guest room and they’d spent a lot of time just talking, watching Aiden play and get into mischief. Harry’s inconvenient crush had developed, and he was slightly worried he was falling for the big dragon tamer. Of course, it didn’t help when he’d come home last night to a home-cooked meal to find Charlie talking to Aiden and feeding him bits of their dinner as he sat on Charlie’s shoulder. For his gruff demeanour, Charlie was really a big softie. 

Spotting the large group in the corner, Harry and Charlie headed in that direction, to their hearty greetings. All the Weasley kids were there with their partners, as well as Dean and Seamus. They’d left their twins with Seamus’ mother; she was staying with the boys over Christmas this year and had jumped at the chance to look after them. 

Of course, as they were the last to arrive, they had to buy the next round of drinks, which caused a great deal of teasing about who was going to pay. Laughing at the good-natured ribbing, Harry dug out his wallet and dragged Charlie over to the bar. 

“What do you need me for?” Charlie asked and Harry had to bite his tongue not to tell Charlie exactly what he needed him for.

“I’m not carrying all of this on my own,” Harry replied indicating the number of drinks in front of them. Grabbing a tray, Charlie took some drinks back to the table as the barmaid poured the rest of them. Handing over the galleons, Harry picked up the last remaining drinks and turned to carry them back to the table, nearly dropping them at the sight of Charlie stretched out to hand someone a drink, his jeans sinfully tight. 

Tightening his grip on the tray, Harry carried the drinks across to the group and Charlie handed them out before pulling a chair up and finally sitting down. When they all got together it was a loud, boisterous group and Harry loved it. Unfortunately, all the noise woke up the sleeping dragon tucked into Harry’s jacket and a little black head peaked out, sleepily blinking at the adults. 

“Who is this little sweetie?” Luna asked, captivated. Unzipping his jacket, Harry carefully lifted Aiden out and sat him on the table, unwrapping the scarf so Luna could see him properly. Charlie stroked Aiden’s back to keep him calm. This was far more people than he was used to but he seemed curious about all the attention, tilting his head at the new voices and sounds.

“His name is Aiden,” Charlie told her, “He won’t hurt you; he has been snoozing,” Aiden yawned as if to prove Charlie’s statement to Luna’s delight. 

“Can I pat him?” she asked to Charlie’s nod. Slowly she extended her hand for Aiden’s inspection. Reaching out he sniffed Luna’s fingers and deciding the lady was no threat Aiden nudged his head into Luna’s hand to her giggle. “Oh, you are adorable, aren’t you?” course Aiden scurried closer for more pets and attention.

“He is a shameless hussy when he’s getting attention,” Harry said just as Aiden flopped over onto his back for belly scratches to everyone’s laughter.

Harry just managed to hide his blushes as Charlie was wedged right up beside him, as there really wasn’t enough room, not that Harry was complaining. Hermione and Ron were whispering to themselves and when Hermione caught Harry’s eye, she winked at him, and Ron raised his glass in a silent salute. It didn’t help Harry’s pink cheeks at all. 

“I told you that you’d be too hot in that extra jumper,” Charlie whispered. Puzzled, Harry turned to stare at him. “Your cheeks are pink,” which of course made it worse. However, by the wicked smirk Charlie was now wearing he knew damn well the heat was not the problem. 

Shooting Charlie a glare, which he ignored, Harry turned to talk to Percy. Just as he took a sip of his Firewhisky, someone wanted to get out so Charlie had to shift even closer, and he put his hand on Harry’s thigh to steady himself, and Harry choked on his drink, spitting it all over the table to everyone’s laughter and cries of distress, not at Harry’s predicament of course, just their spilt drinks. 

“You right there mate?” Ron asked, the laughter clear in his voice. Harry just glared at him, which didn’t help at all. 

“Fine,” he spluttered as Charlie thumped him on the back, his hand far warmer than the pub. 

“Looks like it’s your shout again Harry!” Fred said, with a knowing grin and pushing his now empty glass towards Harry. Grumbling about it, to not one ounce of sympathy, Harry got to his feet. 

“Come on, this mess was your fault,” he told Charlie and dragged him to his feet as well. 

“Mine!” Charlie complained but followed behind Harry, bickering like an old married couple, to everyone’s amusement. 

“They will be together by New Year,” Fred said to Ron’s snort of amusement. 

“New year, hell they’ll be lucky to make it to Christmas day,”

“You’re on!” Fred said, leaning across the table to shake Ron’s hand “Ten galleons”

“Ten!” Ron snorted “Clearly you know you’re going to lose, twenty galleons they are together by Christmas day,” by the challenging look on his brother’s face, Fred knew there was no way he could back down.

“Done!” in typical Weasley fashion as soon as the bet was laid, counter bets were flying. Most bet on the new year, as Christmas was only two days away. Hermione and Ron, being Harry’s best friends knew exactly how long he’d fancied Charlie.

Handing out the round of drinks, Harry was once again pressed up against Charlie. Aiden was now curled up snoozing in Angelina’s arms as she stroked his back. 

“Come on, the lights should be on by now, let’s go and see them,” Katie said, standing up and donning her scarf and a thick jacket. Everyone else followed suit. The Christmas lights brought out the child in all of them, and for one night they could forget the responsibilities of adulthood and be caught up in Christmas again. 

Charlie tucked Aiden inside his thick jacket. The dragon didn’t even wake up and followed everyone else out of the pub into the cold winter night. Thankfully it had stopped snowing, and the sky was clear. Even though it was after nine o’clock, the streets were still bustling with people finishing their shopping, or just out to admire the decorations. 

Harry stopped to look at a magical display. It reminded him of the Harrod’s windows in London. A small train, filled with presents, was puffing its way up a hill to a red house with smoke coming out of the chimney. 

“It’s beautiful isn’t it,” Charlie said to Harry’s nod. “Come on, we’re being left behind,” slipping his hand into Harry’s, Charlie grinned at his slightly confused look, and tugged him up the street to join the others. 

Ron lightly nudged Hermione in the ribs and nodded to where Harry and Charlie were walking towards them hand in hand. She couldn’t prevent her delighted grin at the sight.

“I’ll be surprised if they hold out until Christmas,” he said linking fingers with his wife and slowly walking down the street. “It’s about bloody time too.” Hermione wholeheartedly agreed. 


	13. Christmas Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets the best Christmas present ever, in front of the whole Weasley family. 
> 
> To everyone who had read, commented and left kudos on this little fic of mine, thank you so much. Wishing you and your loved ones a very Merry Christmas and a fantastic 2020. 
> 
> Special thanks to my dear friends in both my messenger and discord chats, you guys rock! Loves you all xx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/41529282@N02/49168112427/in/dateposted-public/)  
> 

The Weasley family had, as was tradition, gathered at The Burrow the night before. The tree was nearly buried under the number of presents underneath it. Like all the Weasley’s Harry had a snoop under the tree to find where his presents were stashed. 

“Harry Potter, you get away from that tree!” Molly scolded him, but as she had her arms open for a hug Harry knew she was not the slightest bit angry. Bestowing a huge hug on her, Harry turned to admire the tree.

“You’ve outdone yourself, Molly, it’s beautiful,” it was getting harder and harder to see the tree through the number of decorations covering its branches. 

“It’s getting easier now the kiddies are old enough to help decorate it.” Linking her arm with Harry’s, Molly walked them into the kitchen. The kids were most likely already tucked up in bed, it was getting late but work had held Harry back. 

After greeting those who had already arrived, Molly handed Harry his favourite mug full of tea and rescued a couple of fruit mince pies from George to his vocal disappointment. 

Tomorrow would be a hive of activity from the moment the kids woke them in the morning until they all fell into bed way too late, but for now, The Burrow was quite as the adults sat around talking, drinking tea and just relaxing. It was Harry’s favourite part of Christmas. 

“Where’s Aiden?” he asked suddenly, realising he hadn’t seen the little dragon. 

“In his basket,” Charlie said, pointing to what looked suspiciously like one of Molly’s breadbaskets, sitting near the fire. Grinning, Harry walked over and carefully pulled back the red checked cloth and sure enough, Aiden was happily snoring away by the fire. Harry had to chuckle at the bit of tinsel tied around his tail. 

“Come on my big kids, Santa won’t come for you either if you’re not in bed before midnight,” Arthur said to the adults’ chuckles, but it was getting late, so they all said their goodnights and went to bed.

As predicted, the kids woke them up far too early the next morning. The rule was no earlier than seven and Harry could bet it was not a minute after when he first heard the thump-thump of excited children running down the timber stairs and bashing on every door on the way down. Excited calls of Santa’s been echoed through the house. 

Sleepily Harry crawled out of bed and pulled on his old Quidditch jersey and his slippers. The Burrow would be cold until Arthur got the fires going. 

Joining the queue of sleepy adults following their overly excited children downstairs, Harry muttered a few good mornings and Merry Christmas.

The kids were an excited huddle around the tree. From long experience, Harry knew the room was about to be covered in shredded wrapping paper and ribbon. 

The floo flared bright red, in honour of Christmas, and Percy stepped out, dressed in his Santa finery and a lot of very loud Ho, Ho, Ho’s to the adult’s amusement. The older kids did a quick scan of the room and figured out who Santa was that year, but they kept it quiet. 

“So, you’ve all been very good boys and girls I hope?” he asked and the level of noise that echoed around the room was deafening. “I didn’t hear you!” Santa said to an even louder “YES!”. 

As was Santa’s tradition, Percy enveloped both his parents in a hug and wished them Merry Christmas before turning to the tree and making a big deal over the number of presents surrounding it. Of course, by now the kids were climbing the walls in excitement. 

Grabbing the first present Santa started calling out names, young Grace received the first gift this year, from Nanny & Poppy. Each gift was unwrapped and shown off before the next one was handed out. Somehow Percy managed to make sure everyone had at least one gift before anyone got a second. Arthur was delighted with his muggle radio and gave Harry a hearty hug and thanks and Molly loved the balls of wool. Miles away Harry nearly missed his own name being called again. Dropping his pile of goodies on the floor, Harry walked over to Santa to be handed a long narrow box. The label said it was from Charlie. 

Ripping off the paper, Harry gasped in shock at the beautiful necklace that was revealed. It was a dragon, of course, one side silver with a black dragon and the other black with a white dragon. The cord beautifully braided leather. Harry was speechless at the extravagance of the gift. 

“Merry Christmas, Harry,” Charlie said huskily. Harry hadn’t even realised Charlie had moved from the other side of the room. Tearing his gaze from the beautiful necklace, Harry finally looked up and felt the floor tilt underneath him at the look on Charlie’s face. 

Charlie reached out and lifted the necklace out of the box and as he did Harry realised it was two separate pieces that fit together perfectly. Charlie slipped one over his own head and staring Harry in the eyes, slid the other over Harry’s head. 

Harry was slowly coming to terms with the significance of the necklace when Charlie pulled him close and with no hesitation whatsoever kissed Harry senseless in front of his whole family. Reluctantly the two men pulled apart, mostly for lack of oxygen to the explosive catcalls and whistles from their family.

“Well, you certainly took your time about it, Charlie,” Arthur said sternly. However, he was grinning broadly, clearly happy with the outcome. “Now sit down, there are more presents to be handed out.” Dutifully the brand-new couple did as they were bid.

“When?” Harry asked, still slightly stunned, it appeared Santa had given him everything he’d ever wanted.

“I bought the necklace the day after we met up at the Leaky, I saw it in the jewellers on the way home.” Charlie said quietly “It’s a mating necklace,” he told Harry, an uncharismatic shyness in his gaze. 

Harry smiled fondly at the memory; it had been a memorable night.

“When did you know, about us?” he asked shyly. If anyone noticed the two men were wrapped up in each other, no one commented on it. 

“For a while now, but I’d convinced myself I was too old for you.” At Harry’s glare Charlie continued “don’t worry, my brothers put me straight on that score and I saw how great you were with Aiden, and well that sort of sealed the deal.”

Of course, Christmas day in a house full of people wasn’t the most private place to start a relationship so Harry and Charlie were faced with a rather annoyed Fred, George, Audrey and Neville. 

“You could have waited a few more days” Fred grouched handing the men a mug of laced coffee. 

“Why?” Harry asked as he helped tidy up the mounds of wrapping paper covering the front room.

“We all had twenty galleons you’d make it official at the New Year,” George grouched to Charlie's bark of laughter. 

“Why does that not surprise me?” Charlie knew his family far too well. 

“Well I am glad you did not wait, thanks mate,” Ron said grinning happily at his brother and best friend “and about bloody time, come on mum’s dishing up breakfast.”


End file.
